


The Sleepers

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Utopia, Anxiety Attacks, Autism, Autistic Character, Doctor Victor Nikiforov, Drama & Romance, Dubious Morality, Dubious Science, Falling In Love, Falling in love and changing the world, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, No actual noncon, Post-War, References to Depression, Scientist Victor Nikiforov, Society participates in eugenics, autistic yuuri katsuki, futuristic setting, vague reference and implication of noncon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: Viktor has not known anyone who is less than perfect. He grew up among the best, the healthiest and the smartest. He never questioned why-- it was just how he lived. Those who weren’t fit to survive the overcrowded world were humanely reassigned to Sleeper status and connected to the Ethernet, the backbone of the new society.  Parents could still interact with their children through the Ethernet and society could direct its resources to the healthy and sound of mind. It was the ethical and moral way to support the new world order, after all.  Viktor made it through his adolescence and early adulthood without even thinking about the Sleepers. It was background noise-- that is, until Viktor is assigned to follow his Mentor Yakov to the Sleeper Stacks and  user  katsukiy1129919-- the friend Viktor talks to every night and every morning--changes his life and worldview irrevocably.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri
Comments: 39
Kudos: 153





	1. Chapter 1

Katsukiy1129919 shared “Poodle Snaps that radiate Tiktok energy part 5”

Nikiforovv1225898: I love it!!!

Katsukiy1129919: I thought it would be a good break for you. ^^

Nikiforovv1225898: Thanks. I needed it. Today was rough…

Katsukiy1129919: Do you want to talk about it?

Nikiforovv1225898: I don’t want to waste your time. It’s just normal Yakov, stressed about another deadline from the higher-ups.

Katsukiy1129919: I’ve got plenty of time 

Nikiforovv1225898: We’re working on a new medical implant, but the access protections on it are making it extra hard to work on it. I asked Yakov to open the file for me again, and he yelled at me for an hour. Then it turns out, we’re off the project.

Katsukiy1129919: Did he apologize?

Nikiforov: Yakov? No, hah. He’s my supervisor and elder. Whatever he does is standard operating procedure.

Katsuki: But that sounds really frustrating, and you don’t even get to finish…

Nikiforov: That’s okay. I have you, after all. ;)

Katsuki: Me?

Nikiforov: Talking always makes me feel better, and you’re always there. I can take it. 

Katsuki: I’m glad I could help

Nikiforov: How was your day?

Katsuki: It was fine. Nothing new, other than the compliation of videos. I found a research paper on the centrifugal force in quint Lutz jumps!

Nikiforov: Haha, you and your ice skating. 

Katsuki: There was only one paper, dated right before the Great War.

Nikiforov: Did the skater hurt themself? There’s probably a reason why people only do simulations nowadays.

Katsuki: There’s no record of the skater.

Nikiforov: Anything else cool from the Ethernet?

Katsuki: I found a movie from the same time period. It’s called ‘The King and the Skater’

Nikiforov: Want to watch it together?

Katsukiy1129919 initiated a watch party. Join?

Viktor settled down onto the couch in his apartment, switching the screen on his watch onto the much larger one attached to his wall. The movie was old-- the image blurry and flat compared to current technology. But Viktor loved every movie Katsuki chose without fail. He had a tendency to just know when Viktor needed to turn his brain off and relax before he fell victim to the heavy weariness that followed him, lurking in the shadows and waiting to pout. 

Yuuri-- the common name attached to the katsukiy1129919 username was always there for him. He seemed to be constantly online and always there to listen when Viktor needed someone to talk to. It had been less than a year since they had met in a chat-room created for dog-lovers or some other inane topic Viktor had joined, desperate for some social contact outside of his work. He hadn’t expected it to happen, but Yuuri became an important part of his daily life. The movie was a welcome reprieve from humanity, and Viktor smiled at the occasional comment from Yuuri that popped up on his watch, the chat window filling the screen. The private chat had been set as a priority, so Viktor would never miss a message-- although Yuuri never seemed to bother him at work unless Viktor reached out. 

Yuuri had a long list of distractions up his sleeve, from movies to vintage music and research about his favorite topic-- ice skating. Yuuri knew every detail about the sport-- how each jump and spin was executed and landed, the old competition format from when there had been countries. Thanks to his friend, Viktor knew the top skaters in the era before the war and the subsequent restructuring of the remaining civilizations. He knew how many medals they had, and where they had won competitions. He had even watched old media videos of the skates with Yuuri. What had started out as humoring a friend turned into a genuine interest and love for the graceful movements and glittering costumes. 

Viktor dreamed-- maybe in another life. In this one, he spent his days researching and working under top-of-his-field Dr. Yakov. He couldn’t see leaving the medical field to merely work in entertainment. That field was long done, push aside for fields that furthered the survivability of the remaining human race.

“We should go to a simulation room together,” Viktor spoke into his watch, the text appearing in the chat room instantly. Viktor’s heart fluttered at the daring offer. They had never talked about the outside world-- not the current one, anyway.

Katsuki: I wish

Viktor frowned, his rushing heart sinking in dissapointment.

Nikiforov: why not?

Yuuri didn’t answer.

Viktor arrived at Yakov’s office an hour early the next morning, the sky still dark and far away from sunrise. He unlocked the door, settling at Yakov’s computer and pressing his finger to the print scanner, logging in under his supervisor’s name.

He opened the government database, carefully typing in the username from memory: katsukiy1129919 and waiting nervously as the screen blinked, scanning over thousands of entries.

File found. Open?

Viktor tapped the screen, his chest tighter and breath harder than it should be.

Ethernet ID: Katsukiy1129919  
Common Name: Katsuki Yuuri  
Race: East Asian- Japanese- 100%  
DOB: 11.29. AGW 19  
Location: Sleeper Stack A. 12.C  
Status: Sleeper- 12.1. AGW 29  
Diagnosis: Comorbid Anxiety Disorder, Autism.

Read more…

Viktor stared at the screen. He had no idea he had spent every day of the last year interacting with a Sleeper. The thought had never crossed his mind-- and Yuuri didn’t even act like one-- especially one that had their intake file dated nearly ten years before. Nothing had seemed particularly off or dangerous about Yuuri.

It was strange, considering the announcement Yakov had told him of the day before. That the implant project was over, and instead Viktor would be trained on Caretaking at the Sleeper Stacks. It felt like a downgrade, even though Viktor knew only the highest security clearance and most capable doctors were assigned as Caretakers.

It just didn’t sound as important as inventor. He had not spent hours working in university until his vision blurred and back hurt to become part of the secretive staff at the Stacks.

But now… as the data on the screen burned into Viktor’s eyes…

It felt like a chance.

An opportunity to meet Yuuri in the flesh.

Even if he was a Sleeper.


	2. Awake

Viktor had known Yakov since childhood. His parents had referred him for testing, and a week later Dr. Feltsman was on their doorstep. He spent every other afternoon with Yakov-- either in the kitchen or in the backyard on the glass table overlooking his mother’s garden. Sometimes Yakov would bring a logic puzzle, or they would work through a math book on Yakov’s tablet.

By the time Viktor entered high school, Yakov had taught him anatomy and physiology and started him on graduate level work. School had bored him, but Yakov’s lessons kept him entertained. Viktor went to school only for the company. Yakov was gruff, and nicer to Viktor than most others, but Viktor struggled to call him a friend. Viktor craved human contact in any form he could get it. Which is why, perhaps he ended up so dedicated to the medical field.

Now, at thirty-three, Viktor would have been well-established in his practice. But he had been chosen. Chosen by Yakov Feltsman, the head of medicine at the Central Settlement. He had been brought up to take his place before he even know what that meant. That it meant learning all fields of medicine, including the fairly new one of Caretaking.

Viktor had been born 15 years years after the Great War, which researchers cited as one of the factors pushing Caretakers into being. Viktor never experienced the hardships that pushed the Leaders to the decision to nurture the able-bodied and well-minded. The first Sleeper had been designated only one day after Viktor was born, still in a Health Pod, awaiting his data to be filed into the system. 

He knew the process-- only because Yakov had taught it to him during their studies together.

It all started with the Diagnosis. At-risk individuals were tagged and were monitored until they proved unable to contribute to society. Their family would be notified by the court before the Candidate was taken to a Medical building where a caretaker would complete the Intake. They would scan the Candidate’s face, reassign their file and provide the Candidate with the proper clothing for the preparation.

The Preparation was the easiest part-- Viktor could catheritize and intubate patients in his sleep. Many doctors preferred to plug in Candidates first in order to avoid the struggle of a conscious patient. It made it easier to insert the tubes that provided oxygen and food and removed wastes, and to bathe the patient before they were put into a health pod filled with a bio-gel that suspended the patients and eliminated the risk of bed sores. 

A caretakers job was to make sure the Sleepers were comfortable-- updating their avatars in the system, maintaining a safe link to the Ethernet, and grooming to the standard selected by the Sleeper’s family.

Yakov had taught Viktor all of these things, but he did not prepare him for the strange reality of the stacks.

“Row Z-1 and 3 are due for maintenance.” Yakov grunted, escorting Viktor down the rows and rows of drawers stacked two high and twenty across. The only sound, other than their voices was the hum of medical equipment, the bundled tubes running along the top of the cases. Yakov pulled open a drawer, scanning the code assigned to it and bringing up the file on his glass tablet.

Viktor remained quiet. It reminded him of a morgue-- or at least, the morgues that existed before the war. The body inside it floated inside an acrylic case , their skin pale and colorless from it’s lightless containment. The woman looked peaceful, eyes closed, nasal-gastric tube hooked behind her ear and closely-cropped hair. Her oxygen system sealed around her nose and mouth in order to keep her from aspirating the gel. The thickest tube entered the port above her left ear-- the hardware that everyone had implanted at birth. Viktor rarely plugged into any systems, preferring his watch over direct connections. The thickness and permanence of the wire shocked him-- most systems in stores could fit in the palm of a hand or were entirely wireless.

The woman was as old as his mother, though her expressionless face lacked the same wrinkles and smile lines.

Was this how Yuuri lived? Trapped in a shell too small to move in, stored in a shelf among thousands of other bodies? 

Vitkor followed Yakov robotically until it was time for midday break, an uneasy feeling sitting in his stomach.

Katsukiy1129919 shared “Good boi poodle dad borks at puppers”  
Viktor sagged in relief, glad that Yuuri hadn’t disappeared on him completely.

Nikforov: I still want to see you.

Yuuri didn’t answer.

Nikiforov shared “Stammi Vicino--pre-war instrumental track 10 hours”

Katsuki: Just what I needed.

Viktor worried his bottom lip. Yuuri answered right away when Viktor reached out, but after last night, he had said nothing.

Could he say anything? Or did the chat filters keep him from speaking freely?

Viktor abandoned the lunch tray he had been picking at for the majority of his break to a corner of his desk. Yakov was eating in a restaurant outside of the stacks, but Viktor hadn’t felt like navigating all the security clearances again.

He stood up, opening the database a second time.

Stack A. 12.C.

Viktor found the row easily-- it was one of the older pods. It was obvious by Yuuri’s intake date and location, closer to the main door. His heart beat wildly in his chest as he pulled open the drawer.

He looked just like his avatar--the scan must have been recently updated. Soft cheeks. Dark hair. Only his face was marred by medical equipment, and his eyes were blissfully closed.

Viktor’s watch lit up with another notification, and Viktor glanced at it. He read as far as the username before he felt sick.

The lifeless shell in front of him, and bright, smart and sweet katsukiy1129919 did not compute. How could the body before him be the one talking to him? It didn’t move but for the air pushed mechanically into it, the bio gel too thick to even register the force with which Viktor had pulled open the drawer.

Without thinking, Viktor hit the drain button, the pump roaring to life as the bio gel was sucked out of the pod and down to some other system. The remaining gel clung to Yuuri as he slowly rested at the bottom of the acrylic coffin, the monitor displaying his vitals on the outside of the drawer beeping. Viktor unlocked the lid, staring down at Yuuri, his bangs plastered over his eyes. He reached into his coat before he could consider the consequence of his actions, pulling on a set of gloves and working on disconnecting Yuuri from the machine. He left the port connection for last, his hands shaking as he yanked the thick cord from its place on Yuuri’s temple.

The plug fell onto the acrylic case with a thunk-- and Yuuri immediately began fighting. He pulled at the mask that Viktor had left on for fear of starving him of oxygen.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Viktor soothed, grimacing as he extubated Yuuri. His eyes fluttered open, dark eyelashes wet with the slick remains of the bio-gel. The khaki-brown standard issue gown stuck to Yuuri’s skin, despite the bell-shaped sleeves and hem that maintained Sleepers modesty.

His eyes were even more beautiful than the scan. A soft honey-brown, more alive than the computer generated approximation that was assigned to his username. Yuuri struggled to sit up, slipping against the slick surface. Viktor reached out, pulling Yuuri out of the case, his hands under Yuuri’s arms, pressing against his rib cage. He was slim-- not starved, but not healthy either. His legs folded underneath him, weak and unsteady on solid ground.

Yuuri, after all, had not walked for nearly ten years.

Viktor set him on the black linoleum floor, kneeling beside him. “Do you remember your name?”

“Katsuki Yuuri,” His voice broke, rough from years of disuse. It sounded strange, but beautiful all at once.

“I’m Nikiforov… Viktor.” He replied. He had no idea what he was going to do next. He had followed an urge, ignored the consequences of his actions.

It was all worth it, for the smile that lit up Yuuri’s face.

“Viktor!” He smiled, falling forward onto his hands, too close and staring for too long. Viktor felt his personal bubble being violated, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t regret a thing.

Viktor stared too, until he heard Yuuri’s teeth chatter. The biogel till stuck to him, weighing down his gown and hair.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Viktor pushed himself up to his feet, closing the drawer Yuuri had lived in and offering the man his hands. Yuuri took them, shakily pulling himself onto his own feet. He slipped, his first steps tentative and shaky as his body readjusted to the pressure and new position. Viktor vaguely remembered that Yuuri had been eighteen when he had been designated. It was not like he had been a young child, sequestered before they learned to walk.

He just needed time.

Viktor walked backward, leading Yuuri carefully down the hall and into an examination room. Yuuri squinted at the bright lights, shielding his eyes and shrinking backwards. Viktor touched the panel, turning a few of the lights off.

“There’s the shower stall.I’ll get you… something dry to wear.” Viktor muttered, feeling at a loss once he led Yuuri to the shower. He turned his back, not ready to violate what little privacy Yuuri had. Viktor had already taken him out of his pod. He was stupid, his decision catching up with him. 

It was stupid and dangerous. Viktor had no idea why Yuuri had been designated in the first place. Did he lash out? Self harm? Would they even make it out the door before being found out?

But Yuuri seemed perfectly fine, lathering the scent-free soap through his hair and scrubbing his face. Viktor searched for a dry gown, ending up with the same kind of garment Yuuri had been wearing before. Viktor kept his back to the shower, though he could hear Yuuri step out, smell the steam escape and dissipate into the main room. 

He focused on the small details-- focused enough that Yuuri’s touch made him jump.   
His friend looked puzzled, the soft fabric already draped over his shoulders. The wide sleeves and hem hid his figure, the hem hanging just above his knees. Viktor knew exactly why they chose this particular design, but each detail was lost in the reality of Yuuri.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked, his voice healed somewhat from the steam of the shower. He seemed a little more sure on his feet, but Viktor could tell from his muscle tone that he would tire easily.

“Oh, good. Feel better?” Viktor stuttered, standing up and going to the other end of the room. “I’ll order some tea.” He touched the panel on the wall next to the transportation system. He loved and hated the technology-- loved the convenience but hated the fact that it made it too easy to avoid human interaction.

Though, right now it was a necessity.

“I didn’t say I wanted tea,” Yuuri spoke from the other side of the room. It was strange the hear the honest bluntness instead of read it. At first he had been offended, but after his year talking to Yuuri, he appreciated it for what it was. Yuuri was never mean--- just transparent and honest.

It made sense, given why he was a Sleeper in the first place.

“It will help your throat.” Viktor added a second order, just in case black tea wasn’t to his taste. He turned to another panel, transferring the file from his watch to the room’s system. Yuuri’s confused expression melted away into a sweet smile. He stepped forward, rising onto his toes, flicking his hands as if he were shaking off water before he rolled back onto his flat feet. He crossed the room before he bounces again, flicking his hands with the same smile that made Viktor unable to look away.

“Stammi Vicino,” Yuuri named the song-- the one they had shared a hundred times over. Yuuri had found it during his deep dives into ice skating and shared it during one of Viktor’s Hard Days. Later on, Viktor would think of it as their song, as they would send it to each other whenever they needed comfort.

“...Yeah.” Viktor forced a smile, his doctor brain stuck on the movement Yuuri had demonstrated not even an hour into his return to conscious life. He recognized it instantly-- self-stimulatory behavior, or stimming. A hallmark of autism, which was one of many categories the government referred for Designation. 

Viktor had been hoping for something more subtle.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice was quiet, and he visibly flinched at the whoosh-clank of the delivery system as their tea arrived.

“Hm?” Viktor pulled the tray out of its compartment and removed the lid from the white china cups.

“Why am I awake?”


	3. Home

Viktor stared blankly at Yuuri. The room was suddenly too white, with too much brushed metal and sterility. It was the kind of environment he had spent most of his adult life in, but it was suddenly suffocating.

“I...I wanted to meet you.” Viktor said the only answer that came to his mind. It was true. He hadn’t had an ulterior motive beyond resolving the unease of walking the rows of coffins and how uncomfortable it had made him to think of Yuuri living inside of one.

Yuuri's fingers wrapped over his mug of tea, soaking in the warmth of the ceramic instead of lifting it to his lips.

“Are you going to put me back?” Yuuri asked, his doe-like brown eyes staring down into the cup of tea instead of Viktor’s face.

Viktor swallowed, his throat closing at the swell of strange emotion that came over him. “No.Never.”

Yuuri took a tentative sip of the tea, his eyes lifting to stare unabashedly at Viktor over the lip of the cup.

“You don’t look very surprised.” Viktor broke the awkward silence, forcing a casual smile. “Am I not that impressive?”

“You talk about Yakov a lot. You’re in a lot of news reports. I know all about your job.” Yuuri worried his bottom lip. “They don’t talk about your looks, though.”

“What about my looks?” Viktor leaned closer, his eyebrows raising. But Yuuri blushed, his shoulders curling inward and he pulled back. He gulped down the tea, trying his best to avoid answering.

But that was answer enough. Viktor felt his own cheeks grow warm and found himself staring into his own cup of tea awkwardly. 

“Do I get to go home?” Yuuri broke the awkward silence, his mug empty and left on a counter-top. He walked around the room, exploring and dragging his fingers along the surfaces and walls.

“I… I didn’t really plan anything.” Viktor swallowed. He pulled a work-station up from its storage inside a counter-top, typing in Yakov’s ID number and scanning his finger in muscle memory.

“If I can’t go home.. And I don’t have to be here… where do I go?” Yuuri peered into a microscope, one eye squinting closed as he peered through the lens.

Viktor pulled open Yuuri’s file, scanning it one last time before he typed in the delete command.

Delete?

Yes.

Reason?

Viktor hesitated, looking at Yuuri over the edge of his screen.

Reason: Duplicate file.

It was the first lie Viktor had told to the face of the government. He of course had lied to his mother and father-- always to stay out of trouble. But what reason was Viktor lying for now?

“You can stay with me.”

~

Viktor put in for vacation time for the rest of the afternoon. He managed to sneak into his office without meeting Yakov, grabbing his coat and tablet before shutting the door behind him.

Yuuri let Viktor tie the trench coat around him, the belt cinched much tighter than it usually was on Viktor. It wouldn’t do to walk out into public with a Sleeper in the standard gown. They’d stand out, and the military polices’ eyes would be on them. Viktor hadn’t thought that far ahead-- he hadn’t even thought of what he would do after waking Yuuri up. All he knew is that he couldn’t put him back to Sleep.

Unfortunately, nothing could be done for Yuuri’s bare feet. Viktor grabbed a contamination bag and wadded up acetate sheets into vaguely shoe-shaped objects. The sheets were normally used to back up cloud data, but now they were to masquerade as shoes until they made it to the save haven of Viktor’s apartment.

“Here,” Viktor handed Yuuri the back, and the man eyed it suspiciously. “You can’t stay here. No one will know you’re a Sleeper, but they’ll know you’re not staff.”

“Where do I go?” Yuuri asked quietly, looping the drawstring of the fluorescent orange bag over his wrist. He had followed Viktor to his office like a lost puppy, but now he lagged several steps behind.

“You…. _ we _ can go back to my apartment until I figure things out.” Viktor paused, reaching out to touch Yuuri’s arm. He didn’t shy away, but he didn’t meet Viktor’s eyes either. Viktor led them to the elevator, scanning his key card and pressing the express button. It would be better if no one else joined them. Viktor watched Yuuri sway and grip the handrail when the elevator sank the first ten floors-- it made sense. He was acquainted himself with gravity after all. But when the doors opened on the ground floor, Viktor heard a sharp inhale and saw Yuuri stiffen, his hands white-knuckled fists at his sides. 

The ground floor was the busiest-- it held the reception, and was the only floor where the general public could visit. It also housed the Health Museum, where schools conducted their mandatory yearly field trips so students and teachers alike knew which health statuses required reporting to the Sleeper Bureau. As a doctor, Viktor had continued his visits well after graduating. But it was only now that he recalled the exhibits and displays… and how none of them made him think of Yuuri.

Yuuri’s eyes were calm, a soft warm brown that looked faraway in thought. He didn’t twitch or curse under his breath. He didn’t look like a threat to society.

He walked quickly over the cold tile floors, slowing when Viktor did. Then Viktor realized that Yuuri needed him to leave-- that he had spent a decade as a sleeper, well past the remodel of the building. 

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand, keeping the touch light as he lead him to the transport station. He stopped by the first screen, requesting a private car and scanning the implant on his wrist that held his data. It automatically read it and filled in the destination options, Viktor touching the display that listed his apartment. Yuuri didn’t let go of his hand, his shoulders tense and toes curled against the cold cement underfoot. But he seemed perfectly fine-- blending into the crowd, the mass of people transferring or gathering at the transport point. Even if it seemed to make him nervous.

The self-driving car pulled up directly in front of Viktor, and he opened the door for Yuuri. He crawled tentatively in, relaxing when the door shut behind them and the outside noise grew muted.

“Are you hungry?” Viktor pulled out his tablet, scrolling to the home services page. He rarely kept food at home-- he craved company, and cooking for one was lonely.

Yuuri didn’t answer. “Yuuri?” Viktor looked up, catching the other man by surprise.

“Wha?” Yuuri blinked. 

“Hungry?”

Yuuri didn’t seem to understand the words, his fingers ghosting over where the NG tube had been taped to his cheek.

Right. Sleepers didn’t eat, they were fed. The tea had probably been the first thing to pass Yuuri’s lips in ten years. The system was designed to provide a constant nutritional source based on individual metabolism. Yuuri probably didn’t even remember what hunger felt like.

“Do you remember what you liked to eat...before?” Viktor asked instead. Yuuri finally looked relaxed again, sinking tiredly into the silver vinyl seats of the car.

“I don’t have access to those memories,” Yuuri said, his fingers moving to the port above his ear. “Maybe… katsu..don?” It seemed to come back to him regardless.

“The International District is on the other side of the settlement from my apartment, but I’m sure I can get something delivered.” Viktor did his best to transcribe the words into the directory. “Ah, yes. Yuutopia Katsuki delivers.”

Yuuri gasped, and before Viktor could react he pried the tablet from Viktor’s hands. Viktor sputtered in confusion, before he felt stupid. Of course-- his username. His family name was Katsuki, Viktor had known this. Known this and still said it thoughtlessly.

“Do you know that place?” Viktor asked, watching as Yuuri scrolled through the menu, colors glowing from the thin metal display.

“It’s my parent’s restaurant. Part of the bath house.” Yuuri said without looking away. He squinted sometimes-- maybe his eyes required correction and he held the tablet close.

“Would you like to go home?” Viktor asked, the word creating an unpleasant cold sensation in his stomach. He didn’t want to give Yuuri up just yet-- but now that he was out of the Sleeper Stacks, he had no reason to stay with Viktor.

Yuuri was quiet, scrolling through the storefront photos. The car rolled to a gentle stop in front of Viktor’s apartment building.

“We can go there. I have a measuring system in my apartment, and you can borrow some things of mine. There’s a clothes shop next door. Do you know your shoe size?” Viktor rambled, uneasy at Yuuri’s silence.

“I don’t have any money.” Yuuri said as he handed back Viktor’s tablet.

“I--- don’t worry about it.” Viktor stammered, opening the door for Yuuri yet again.

“I can’t ask my parents for anything. I have no way of repaying you.” Yuuri followed Viktor out of the car, looking small.

“I don’t need to be repayed. You’re my friend.” Viktor felt a little too defensive, guilty at the way Yuuri hung back. “My best friend.”

Yuuri’s owl-like look of surprise softened into a shy smile. Viktor felt his own face burn, but he didn’t know if it was because of his own stupid actions or Yuuri’s reaction.

“Your company is enough.” Viktor mumbled, scanning his implant again at the entrance. Yuuri didn’t answer, following him into another elevator.

“I should warn you, I have--”

“Makkachin,” Yuuri interrupted, the smile back on his soft lips. “Standard apricot poodle, twelve years old.”

Viktor blinked, before he nodded his head. “I told you… she likes to jump, right?”

“And she doesn’t like sharing your bed,” Yuuri’s smile widened, and Viktor felt even hotter. Why did he share such stupid things? Why didn’t he remember that Yuuri loved dogs too? It was how they met, after all.

Well. The first time they met.

Viktor unlocked his front door, paws scratching at the door before he even could touch the sensor. Makkachin launched out of the entryway, bowling Yuuri over. They both fell to the floor-- Viktor automatically steeling himself and keeping his feet in the proper stance to support Makkachin’s barreling weight.

“Oh god, Yuuri I’m--” Viktor stopped as soon as he heard laughter, Makkachin licking Yuuri’s face, his lips pursing as her tongue licked against his mouth and his eyes without any care for boundaries.

“Hi pretty girl,” Yuuri cooed, scratching behind the poodle’s ears. Makkachin answered in a long whine, her tail beating a happy rhythmn against the door frame.

“She likes you. Usually she checks people out before kissing them,” Viktor found himself laughing as well, before he leaned down to pull Makkachin off of Yuuri. He was still much too weak, his muscle tone too low to fight against kilos of poodle.

“I like you too, Makka.” Yuuri laughed, wiping his face off on the sleeve of Viktor’s coat.

“Please come in. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll find you something to wear.” Viktor turned, hiding his face when it grew warmer. Yuuri’s gown-- and Viktor’s jacket had ridden up during the fall, and the fabric no longer covered Yuuri’s bare and deliciously soft thighs.

Viktor hurried to find something appropriate-- ending up only with a pair of grey drawstring pajama pants and a t-shirt from the academy he had attended when he was 12, kept in his closet only for memories shake. Viktor had a good few centimeters in height and was at least a size or two bigger than Yuuri, but Viktor had been small and slender long ago, before his father’s genetics ran him over in secondary school. He found a pair of foam flip-flops-- much too large, but at least they would separate Yuuri’s tender feet from the floor below. 

Viktor found Yuuri in the living room, curled up on the floor and petting Makkachin. The bottoms of his feet were already black, his heels and toes pink from irritation. It wouldn’t do.

“Here,” Viktor cleared his throat, and Yuuri drowsily climbed onto his feet.

“Thank you,” He took the stack of neatly folded clothes, setting it on the coffee table next to Viktor’s couch. Words evaded Viktor as Yuuri stripped naked in the middle of the living room-- a task not that hard considering he only had his coat and the soft khaki cotton of his sleeper gown. Yuuri seemed unashamed, slipping into the pants first, pulling the drawstring tight and fumbling to tie it. The shirt fit perfectly, but Viktor knew he would be cold outside the climate-controlled buildings of the city.

Viktor felt even more awkward, seeing Yuuri’s body for what it was, and not what it was hidden underneath flowing fabric. He was no longer obscured by gender-neutral gowns, and the shirt hugged his shoulders. He looked definitely male, something Viktor had grown up noticing more and more as he matured. It wasn’t like he didn’t know Yuuri was a man-- he had read his file, talked to him every chance he got. But he didn’t know that Yuuri was  _ attractive.  _

Not that Viktor knew how to react to attractive, other than admiring from afar. 

Makkachin nosed at Viktor’s hand, begging to be petted now that Yuuri wasn’t giving her attention. They stood in relative silence, Yuuri’s gaze flickering up to Viktor. Yuuri seemed to be a person of few words, despite their constant chatting for what had felt much longer than a year. It made things even more awkward-- like this really wasn’t Yuuri, even though Viktor knew that it most definitely was.

“Yuuri….are you okay?” Viktor ventured to ask, scratching Makkachin behind her ear absentmindedly.

Yuuri fidgeted, his fingers finding Makkachin’s other end and scratching her back.

“I don’t know what to say… without access to the Ethernet,” He didn’t look at Viktor when he talked, focusing on Makkachin instead. “It’s a lot easier… to sound smart when you can look at the text first.”

Viktor breathed, laughing a little. “You’re so right. I message most of my coworkers instead of voice message. They call me old fashioned, but I like seeing my thoughts first.” Viktor pulled back, going to his desk in the corner of the room and sorting through a few drawers before he found what he was looking for.

“Here. I kept this tablet. It still works, I was just gifted one with larger storage. It won’t be the same was being plugged in, but you can still get to the Ethernet.”

Yuuri blushed, and Viktor suddenly felt extremely gay, the wierd rush from seeing the expression on Yuuri’s face making him want more.

“I don’t deserve this,” Yuuri said, taking the tablet anyway. The screen flickered to life, the transparent glass filling with pixelized color.

“You deserve the world, Yuuri.”


	4. Cognitive Dissonance

Viktor had said something overbearing, too much for people who had just met each other within hours. Yuuri didn’t answer, Viktor’s mind spiraling into all the things Yuuri would do in response to his stupid overstep.

“I’m not allowed,” Yuuri finally said, the fingers of one hand flitting across the tablet while the other one held it.

“It shouldn’t be password locked, let me--” Viktor stopped short when he found the archived ISU website displayed on the tablet. It was working fine.

“I’m not allowed to have the world. I’m a Sleeper.” Yuuri clarified. “I’ll find a way to repay you.”

Viktor couldn’t find an answer, too focused on the wierd feeling in the pit of his stomach. With Yuuri in slightly more passable clothes, they could at least walk the streets. They could buy some clothing that actually fit him. Then… they could go to Yuuri’s old home, and they could part ways and never meet again if Yuuri wanted to.

Viktor didn’t want to. But he couldn’t deny Yuuri, or force him to take his charity. Besides, they could still talk, and it would be exactly as before.

“Let’s go shopping, alright?” Viktor straightened his back, Makkachin barking happily. “Sorry, girl, you have to stay here.”

“Can she come?” Yuuri finally looked up from the tablet. “My parents...we used to have a dog. They won’t mind.”

Viktor stared, trying to push Makkachin back onto the floor as she jumped up, pawing at his front. “Okay,” He said before he could think. He slipped her collar and leash on, offering Yuuri the too-large foam sandals. He had to walk carefully, but they didn’t have far to go to the shop. They shuffled to the building next door, a large room of LED panels.

“Ah, I forgot to measure you. We can do it here.” Viktor tapped a screen, dragging open a menu. The floor lit up with an X, and Yuuri stepped onto it, flinching as a panel overhead slid back, and a ring-like machine lowered from the ceiling. Light flickered across his body as the lasers measured his body. Viktor read them, frowning. He was barely in the acceptable range for BMI, a conversion done easily in his head after years of Yakov’s training. The measurements changed into a panel-wide display of clothing that Yuuri squinted at.

“Please. Pick anything you like.” Viktor felt himself grow warm as Yuuri scrolled through underwear and socks before he selected the cheapest set of jeans. 

“You’ll look good in this,” Viktor selected an off-white cable-knit sweater when Yuuri reached the outer clothing section, adding it to the cart. “I-its cold outside.”

Yuuri selected a single pair of low-rise canvas shoes before stepping back, avoiding looking at the total. “You can take some things out.” He offered, although in Viktor’s mind, he had selected the bare minimum.

“Don’t worry. I have more money than I know what to do with.” Viktor pressed the check- out button, the screen going dark as the delivery drawer opened and the order was processed.

They took the plastic-wrapped package from the drawer five minutes later, walking a block south to another transport station. Crowds seemed to make Yuuri nervous, but thankfully the residential ones were less busy. Viktor reserved another private car-- something he rarely did. He usually took rideshare pods, preferring the company of others even if he never talked to them. But Viktor could already see how tense Yuuri grew among crowds, and his diagnosis hid in the back of his mind, ever present. He couldn’t risk it.

Makkachin loved the idea of the private car, whining until one of the tinted windows was rolled down far enough for her to stick her head out. It was at least an hour to the other side of the settlement on clear roads, and Viktor had no idea when rush hour actually was. Viktor fidgeted, talking about what Yakov had done the other day-- talking about his job today felt wrong. He filled the silence, not requiring Yuuri to reply until he discovered that he had nodded off, his head resting against Makkachin’s side.

Of course he was tired. He had went from bio-gel stasis for ten years to walking upright, even carrying items for hours at a time. He barely qualified as healthy as it was.

Makkachin jolted, leaping up when they passed another dog somewhere in the Western District. Yuuri flopped onto Viktor’s arm,slumping against him by the sheer force of Makkachin’s excitement.

Viktor felt the warmth of Yuuri’s body intensely, his soft cheek and the bit of drool trailing from the corner of his mouth. He made a soft displeased sound, his brow furrowing, but he didn’t wake up. Viktor had to nudge him awake when they finally arrived.

Viktor had only been in the International District a few times in his life. It was named the international district by the government, but it had started as its own smaller settlement after the Great War. With most island nations under water, the few remaining people from Asia gathered on the limited viable land. It hadn’t been long until the settlement had been annexed, but the communities still remained decades afterward. Viktor wouldn’t dare say it aloud, but the International district had the most life and character of the settlement. Buildings were shorter, more artful, pieces of old culture instead of the uniform glass buildings Viktor had grown up around.   
Like Yuuri’s home-- a sprawling plaster and wood building with an artificial garden and a blue ceramic roof. Red paper lanterns hung every few feet- a fire hazard for sure, but it felt more personal than a glass facade.

Yuuri rubbed his eyes, stretching as he stepped out of the car. Makkachin sniffed eagerly along the footpath. Viktor was glad Yuuri had pulled his shoes out of the package, as the front yard of the bath house was mainly gravel.

Yuuri took his shoes off at the entryway, his hand going to a cabinet to the left before he froze. He arranged a pair of plastic slippers, picking the largest size for Viktor before taking their shoes and placing them in a small locker.

No one was at the front desk, but Yuuri walked automatically past the reception to the back room, a large glass screen displaying the menu.

There were quite a few people--all dark-haired with Asian features, Viktor standing out in more ways than one. Most lounged, watching a TV in the corner. A few ate, and one woman sat with a spread of papers and a bottle of non-alcoholic wine.

A short and soft-looking woman with chin-length hair bustled between the customers. “Welcome! Please sit---” 

She gasped, dropping the tray in her hands, the glass shattering on the floor. Her hand went to her heart. Only the woman with the papers looked up.

Yuuri fidgeted, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet before the woman flew across the floor and pulled Yuuri into a tight hug.

“Yuuri?” She still asked, and he nodded.   
Viktor heard something behind him crashing to the floor before another woman pulled Yuuri into a hug. 

Makkachin whine questioningly at Viktor, noticing before Viktor did. Yuuris head was bowed , his teeth sinking into the skin between his thumb and index finger. 

Viktor’s stomach dropped as tears streamed down Yuuri’s cheeks, shiny and wet as he rocked back and forth, his fingers clenching and unclenching by his side.

“Oh, my Yuuri.” Her own eyes were wet, and she looked like she had seen a ghost.  
Yuuri fought, twisting violently away from the women, pushing and hitting until one stepped back. 

Stupid. So, so stupid. He had brought Yuuri without warning to his family. Knowing full well that after Sleepers were designated, their families never saw them again, only interacting through the Ethernet. There was no reason for Yuuri to step through the doorway again. No reason for Yuuri’s mother to expect to see her son in person again as long as she lived.

“Nakano-san!,” Yuuri’s mother called. “Cover the dining room please?.” the cook looked up from the kitchen, waving a hand in understanding.

“Yuuri… oh Yuuri. Mari, help me move him.” The woman stepped back and the younger woman slipped her arms under Yuuris and lifted him off the floor. They backed out of the dining room and into a smaller hallway that lead to what looked more like a home than a restaurant or resort. Viktor followed uselessly as Mari fumbled to push a sliding door to the side, carrying Yuuri in even as he thrashed.

“What happened?” Mari grunted, lowering Yuuri to the floor. She went to a corner of the living room, before remembering to kick off her slippers as she walked on the woven straw mat floor. She pulled open a set of drawers, shuffling through them.

“I--I don’t know.” Viktor spoke up, and his voice wavered. Makkachin left Viktor’s side and stepped over Yuuri, nosing at his hand in concern at he bit at it. She flopped on top of him, staring with her wise dark eyes when he didn’t immediately respond.

“A lot did… it could just be that. Ten years.” Hiroko knelt next to her son, who had curled into a ball, still rocking back and forth, blood trickling from his hand fit tightly against his mouth.

“I--I don’t have anything to play--” Mari moved quickly, pulling the pair of headphones from the drawer and crossing the room, carefully sliding the noise-canceling speakers onto Yuuri’s head.

“I do!” Viktor sprang forward, reaching for the end of the universal plug and pressing it to the side of his watch. He had unlimited cloud storage, but he kept one song on the local chip storage on the device.

Yuuri seemed to calm the longer Stammi Vicino played, his eyes far off as he sank back onto the tatami until he was laying flat on it, Makkachin curled up against his side with her chin resting on his chest, her eyes still watching his face. Viktor kept the song on loop, feeling Yuuri’s sisters gaze on his back.

“Viktor Nikiforov.” Mari said evenly, after it became clear Yuuri had calmed but had no intention of talking to anyone yet. “Care to explain why the next Surgeon General woke my brother up and brought him home?”

Viktor felt uneasy, both named and indirectly referenced in the same utterance.  
“Yuuri’s my best friend.” He said, because it was the only explanation he had. He felt Yuuri’s mother watch him too. Her gaze was softer-- she had Yuuri’s eyes.. Or, Viktor supposed, Yuuri had her eyes. Yuuri looked like his mother-- they both had the same round face that made them look years younger than reality, the same kind eyes and soft lilt to their mouths. Mari looked a little thinner, but with the same brow and hairline as her brother, her hands a little rougher. But it wasn’t like Yuuri had the chance to build calluses.

“Why did you bring him here?” Mari stared Viktor down. She wore a red and purple uniform--the same as her mother. Viktor imagined Yuuri wearing it.

“He was hungry.” Viktor swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I didn’t realize...then I couldn’t say no.”

Hiroko laughed, soft and careful. “It’s always been hard to say no to Yuuri.” 

“But that was his first word.” Mari smiled strangely, a nostalgic look crossing her mother’s face.

“Isn’t the first word ‘mama or dada?” Viktor defaulted to the obstetric training he had just finished. He remembered the natural development of language-babbling before words, short sentences that gradually got longer.

Hiroko took a shaky breath, looking at her youngest. “Yuuri didn’t talk until he was five. Nothing for years, then one day he said ‘no, I won’t brush my teeth,”.

Viktor’s eyes widened, turning back to his friend, who had fallen asleep with his fingers curled into Makkachin’s fur. They stood in an uncomfortable silence, before Viktor took a shaky breath.

“I don’t understand why he’s a Sleeper.”


	5. Collateral Damage

“I don’t either. But it has never been our decision,” Hiroko’s voice was carefully even. She watched Viktor, his hands curling into fists.

“It’s for the good of society. A way to honor people’s humanity without the resource drain.” Viktor felt like a parrot, but it had been something he had heard, over and over, throughout his whole life. “But...we left the Stacks… we went shopping...He wasn’t violent, he was just trying to get away. We talked every day, and I never thought…”

“When you studied disabilities, did you ever meet anyone with them?” Mari spoke up. 

She wasn’t helping. Viktor thought back-- even with his classes at med school, that class had existed entirely within the written page. He had seen archival video of the sanitariums before the Great War, the news reports of violence in the decades before the War, and statistics on how they compared to post-War society. But that was Viktor’s first and only class without a clinical practicum.

“...No.” Viktor swallowed thickly.

“Is Yuuri the first person you’ve met that is neurodiverse?” Mari continued. Viktor wrapped his mind around the new word.

“Yes.” He answered a little more readily.

“Wrong.” Mari snapped coldly, but her face didn’t change. “You grew up surrounded by them.”

“Mari, there’s no need to be so short with him,” Hiroko interrupted, frowning.

“I’m not having the Government’s brainwashed poster child fetishize my little brother!” Mari yelled, jolting Yuuri awake. 

“I’m not--” Viktor held his hands up, as if he was facing the military police.

“Mari,” Hiroko scolded. Whatever words she had next were drowned out by sirens wailing in the street, the eerie tone followed by a computer generated notice.

‘Lockdown curfew in effect until further notice.’

Viktor stared out the window, to the speakers mounted on every electrical pole. He went to his watch, the cord to Yuuri’s headphones long since disconnected. He opened the app Yakov’s supervisor had loaded onto it for him, his pulse pounding in his head.

“Public Health Emergency,” Viktor read from the government feed. Mari and her mother look unaffected by the strange announcement. Hiroko knelt by her son, taking his hand gently and squeezing it at the wrist and forearm. “I--I should go.” Viktor continued, Yuuri’s doe-like eyes flickering up to his face.

“You can’t. Anyone on the streets is shot on sight. Unless you think you can make it home in the next two minutes.” Mari folded her arms.

Viktor watched Hiroko help Yuuri to his feet, guiding him to the door they had entered from. 

“We’ll wash your hand first, then bandaid.” Hiroko spoke softly. Another door opened, and Yuuri and his mother were in the kitchen.

“How long is this going to be?” Viktor already hated being in the same room as Mari, his skin crawling with nerves at the obvious disgust she held for him.

“A day. A week. Who knows?” Mari took a step toward the door. “Either way, I need to unpack my brother’s things.”

Viktor didn’t follow Mari out, instead choosing to follow the path Yuuri had taken. The kitchen was homey, the only tech a screen in the corner that Viktor found Yuuri at, searching for a track Viktor recognized from one of their music swaps. 

“Here,” Hiroko handed her son a large bandage, before peeling the paper packaging off and placing it over the angry red crescent on Yuuri’s skin for him. 

“Mari’s getting Yuuri’s things..” Viktor spoke quietly, still unnerved by the past half hour in Yuutopia Katsuki.

“Ah. Yuuri, do you know how long it’s been?” She stood on her toes, pulling her fingers through Yuuri’s hair, combing it down into something less messy.

“A long time,” Yuuri answered. Makkachin was still watching him, and Viktor felt suddenly grateful that Yuuri had requested her presence. He didn’t like the idea of a lockdown, but a lockdown separated from his Makkachin would be even worse.

“Ten years, Yuuri.” Hiroko’s smile took on a sad cast. “You’re twenty-eight now.”

“I know. It’s in my profile.” Yuuri answered, picking at the edge of the plastic bandage on his hand.

“I don’t want to shock you anymore. Your room is still there, but we had to sell your furniture to pay the fee.”

“Fee?” Viktor interrupted. 

Hiroko’s smile tightened. “The Sleeper fee.”

Viktor had assumed the medical care had been free-- after all, the laws that created the Sleeper designation system were mandatory and decided by the court. 

“He’s not in the system anymore.” Viktor blurted, Hiroko going to pull Yuuri’s fingers away from the bandage. “His file is gone.”

“Ah, good. We could use some help in the onsen, Yuuri.” Hiroko fussed at him some more, pinching his forearm lightly. 

“But--Viktor--” Yuuri drew back.

“It’s too late for a job assignment. They took you before that, remember?” Hiroko sighed, her eyes widening as Yuuri tensed and lifted his hand back to his mouth. “Yuuri, no!”

She caught his hand, wrapping it in both of hers.

“Let him decide.” Viktor spoke up. Makkachin pawed at Yuuri’s leg, before turning to press herself against Viktor. “Or, at least give him time. He’s only been awake for three hours.”

Hiroko looked ashamed, the room quiet as Mari stepped back in, handing Yuuri a pair of blue-framed glasses. He slid them onto his face, and Viktor blushed-- their eyes catching each other. Viktor couldn’t look away, and neither could Yuuri, his cheeks turning a rosy pink. Viktor felt his own face heat up. He didn’t know if it was because of Yuuri’s gaze, or the fact that Viktor stupidly imagined Yuuri, bespectacled and in a lab coat, working beside him during the day, and curled up on the couch with a book at night. Most Pre-War movies Viktor had indulged in with Yuuri had the trope of women becoming beautiful bombshells when they slid off their glasses-- but Yuuri was the opposite. He looked even more handsome, and Viktor felt even more wea and susceptible to the whims of the parts of him he had spent years pushing away in favor of his studies.

The feeling became even harder to push away as the day went on. Viktor was charmed by Yuuri’s smile when they ate together, the famed ‘katsudon’ the best food Viktor had tasted since he had left his family home with Yakov. His heart nearly burst when a new guest joined them in the family dining room-- a small brown ball of a poodle that skittered down the hallway and launched itself at Yuuri, followed by Yuuri’s much calmer father. ‘Vicchan’ took a half hour to calm down and even notice the presence of Makkachin, spending the whole time vibrating and licking Yuuri’s face excitedly. Viktor stared-- in love with the dog and the image of Yuuri snuggling it, face bright with laughter. It was only in the dark of Yuuri’s room, laying on a futon next to Yuuri that Viktor realized that ‘dog lover’ was his type, and he was rapidly developing a crush on only-a-friend Yuuri. 

He spent most of the night awake, Makkachin snoring in her own nest of a blanket on his left, Yuuri a few feet to his left and curled around Vicchan, his back to Viktor. He picked out every rom-com he had watched growing up, cursing his parent’s fairytale love story for turning him into such a mess. Yuuri wasn’t interested in him. Mari hated him-- Hiroko seemed to be fine with Viktor, and Yuuri’s father seemed even more care-free than his wife. 

Worse than that, Mari had a point. The last crush Viktor had had been in college, when he had spent a semester with a dark-haired and mysterious upperclassman. They had spent a few study sessions together, Viktor enamored by the man, the only one on campus taller and broader than Viktor that wasn’t involved in any e-sports.

Yuuri was smaller, shorter and much more innocent-looking. He was exotic, and Viktor thought about his quirks before his looks. Mari was scared that Viktor would treat her brother as a spectacle, and she was right. Viktor spent his entire life categorizing his interests into research and case studies. It was why his crush had dissolved before they even kissed, and why Viktor lived alone. He was incapable of love or living as a normal human being-- he was the next Surgeon General, and everything was data.

Except Viktor had no idea the categorize the feeling of waking up, his cheek pressed against Yuuri’s heart, his head rising with each breath Yuuri took. The gentle but burning touch of Yuuri’s arm resting on his back, his fingers curled against his spine.

He was on top of Yuuri, and he felt more well-rested than he had in years, despite knowing he had laid awake into the early hours of the morning. 

Viktor shifted, slowly pushing himself up on his arms and off of Yuuri. His heart skipped a beat at Yuuri’s sleeping face-- so different from the one that he had pulled from the bio-gel coffin. Peaceful-- his mouth hanging open and a trail of drool running down his cheek. Viktor had, in his sleep and at one point during the night, rolled off his own futon and on top of Yuuri. Yuuri, who hadn’t pushed off his weight, who still had his arm slung around Viktor in a compromising situation.

Yuuri’s fingers moved against the small of Viktor’s back, and a soft noise escaped Yuuri’s lips. Viktor froze in terror, his nerves on fire as Yuuri’s foot ran up Viktor’s calves and pushed up the leg of his borrowed pajamas. But Yuuri stopped moving, his dark eyelashes still against his cheeks and body lax.

Viktor slowly slid away from Yuuri, careful not to jolt him awake. As soon as he settled onto his own futon the door slid open, Makkachin and Vicchan stampeding in. Mari watched as the dogs licked the faces of their respective owner, Viktor immediately laughing at the sensation as Makkachin stood over him.

Yuuri, however, fought against joining the land of the conscious, rolling over and grumbling, hiding his face in his sheets.

“You need to eat.” Mari spoke from the doorway, and Yuuri grunted, giving up and letting Vicchan lick at his ear without much protest. “Come on,” Mari sighed, stepping in and pulling Yuuri onto his feet, still tangled up in his blanket and sheets. “Up and at em.”

“Mmm..no.” Yuuri mumbled, his knees going out underneath him as soon as Mari tried to let go.

“He hasn’t stood much for the past--” Viktor caught himself, embarassed at Mari’s withering look.

“He hasn’t been a morning person his entire life.” Mari finished, dragging Yuuri a few feet forward so he could stand on the tatami. She rearranged the blankets around him, his heavy-lidded eyes blinking sleepily open. His hair stuck out every way a bed-headed mess Viktor found terribly cute. Yuuri yawned, following Mari out of his bedroom, albeit at a much slower pace.

Viktor scrambled to follow them back to the family dining room. The digital screen in the room read PM, and the noon sun shone brightly on the table. There were two plates-- with cut tomatoes and sunny-side up eggs on a bed of lettuce, next to a slice of thick toast with a slice of ham. Yuuri immediately went for the toast, and Mari reached over, switching the plates on the dinner table. Viktor only noticed when he sat down that the tomatoes on Yuuri’s plate had the seeds and gooey parts scraped out, and the egg was a little more overdone. Viktor watched as Yuuri folded the toast in half, dipping the end into the yolk of the egg.

“Coffee or tea?” Mari asked coldly, setting a well-loved mug of milk tea in front of her brother. Viktor could see the faded image of poodles against a blue background. The domesticity and love of the meal was almost stifling.

“C--coffee, thank you.” 

Viktor watched Yuuri instead of Mari as she brewed a cup of coffee, his cheeks warming at the smile on Yuuri’s lips, an odd sense of peace settling in him when Yuuri flicked his wrists in between a bite. 

Yuuri stimmed when he was happy. 

“Yuuri. Kaasan is taking care of the guests in the onsen. The lockdown is still in effect.” Mari set down a mug in front of Viktor, along with a carton of milk and a ceramic jar with a small wooden spoon hooked to its side. She sat at the table, across from Viktor and next to her brother, her hands wrapped around her own cup of tea.

Viktor felt like an outsider, despite the fact that Yuuri and Viktor were both dressed in the same green robes provided to onsen guests. Viktor was stuck, an unwelcome guest, but Yuuri was family. He was only in the robes because he had grown sleepy before they realized that his clothing was packed away in unlabeled boxes. They hadn’t expected to need to know-- the boxes an intermediate step between closure and letting go. Most families would have sold or donated the belongings of a Sleeper-- items the person they had belonged to no longer needed.

Luckily, Yuuri’s family seemed unable to complete that step, and Yuuri had his own clothes to change into after eating breakfast. Viktor changed back into his own, washed overnight and returned to him smelling floral. 

Viktor studied Yuuri, drinking in every detail. How he rolled his jeans to bare his ankles, how he wore his socks mis-matched and only low-cut, and all his shirts looked incredibly soft. Viktor helped Yuuri unpack, pulling out and re-folding clothes and organizing them into something that made sense. Not a single piece of clothing had a tag-- the stitches carefully pulled out and leaving no trace where Viktor knew branding had to be. Yuuri wore a lot of blue, stripes and henley shirts and styles that Viktor knew were horribly out of date.

It didn’t matter-- Yuuri looked beautiful no matter what.

The first full day of the lockdown passed quickly-- mostly repacking, with the occasional visit from Yuuri’s family. Hiroko brought up glasses of cold barley tea in white and blue ceramic cups and individually packaged cookies. Toshiya-- Yuuri’s father-- brought them bottled juice and dog treats, spending most of his visit spoiling Makkachin. 

Yuuri tired easily, his muscles having wasted away during his time in the snacks. Viktor didn’t mind the frequent breaks, laying on the tatami floor of Yuuri’s room, close enough that he could touch Yuuri if he was brave enough.

It still looked like Yuuri’s room-- they had left a few ice skating posters on the wall-- vintage reprints, the tour dates from the Pre-War 2010’s. Viktor had expected a coating of dust in the room, but it had been kept clean, one wall taken over by dozens of framed family photos that had probably once hung in the hallway before being relocated to avoid the heartache.

Viktor’s favorite was (oddly) what he guessed what was the first ever family picture taken with Yuuri. It had a much younger Hiroko dressed in a brightly patterned kimono, cradling baby Yuuri in her arms draped in a dark blue haori-- the same type Yuuri’s father wore, standing next to his wife with a six year old Mari dressed in a kimono, her hair tied up into pigtails and adorned with fabric flowers.

His second favorite was the most recent photo they had-- Yuuri at his secondary school graduation, dressed in a cap and gown, staring at a bouquet of blue roses in his hands. Not a single photo with Yuuri in it had him looking at the camera or even a smile, but he looked happy.

“Let’s get back to work?” Viktor spoke up, tearing himself away from staring at the family wall. He pulled another box from the stack,flinching when Yuuri snapped a short “No!” and shoved it back into place.

“You have to go in order, north to south!” Yuuri’s hands were on top of Viktor’s. 

“I don’t think it will hurt anything if we--” Viktor blinked.

“You can’t hurt a box, but you have to go in  _ order.” _ Yuuri repeated firmly, peeling Viktor’s hand off the box and pointing at another box that looked exactly the same as any other one. “That one is next.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Viktor murmured, trying not to think too much about how warm Yuuri’s hands were.

However, the worst was yet to come.

“Yuuri, you should go in the onsen before you hurt yourself from working too hard.” Hiroko fussed after dinner, watching her son lay on the floor under the kotatsu (Viktor’s favorite new item-- a heated blanket-table) nose-to-nose with Vicchan. “Vikkun, you too.”

Viktor’s back straightened, his eyes flickering up to meet Hiroko’s. “M-me?”

“Ah, yes, you too.” Hiroko smiled, setting a fresh cup of tea on the table next to him. “Mari may be cold, but we’re all very glad you brought Yuuri home.”

Viktor smiled, waiting until she was out of the room to research what the name meant. It didn’t seem to be a word-- at least, not in any of the languages uploaded to the Ethernet.

“Yuuri…” Viktor kept his voice low, watching as the man repeatedly squeezed the tiny paws of his miniature poodle. “What is Vikkun?”

“Pet name.” Yuuri yawned, reluctantly pulling himself out from under the kotatsu. “Yuuri-kun. Yuu-kun. Mari-chan. Vicchan.”

Viktor froze. “Vicchan?” The signals were mixed-- Did Yuuri mean pet name like a nickname, or was he being literal?

“Vicchan is Victor.” Yuuri stretched, and Viktor caught himself staring at the small sliver of skin between Yuuri’s shirt and the waistband of his jeans instead of processing what he had said.

“But… I’m Vikkun.” Viktor blinked.

“Two Viktor’s is confusing. The smaller Victor becomes Vicchan.” Yuuri mumbled. “Let’s go to the baths.”

Viktor followed wordlessly, taking the time to sort through what Yuuri meant. By the time he figured he could ask--”Why is your dog named Viktor?” the opportunity had long since passed. Yuuri also happened to be stripping naked.

It wasn’t like Viktor was shy about his body. He often slept in the nude, and spent time in his apartment in the same state of dress. It kept Yakov from visiting unannounced, and keeping his shape gave Viktor a hobby outside of books and research.

The problem was that Yuuri wasn’t shy, dropping his clothes and shoving them into a green plastic basket and in turn shoving the basket into a cubby-hole. The other lockdown guests had long since bathed, leaving Viktor and Yuuri alone. Viktor mimicked Yuuri, grimacing as he washed his hair with bulk-bottle shampoo and not the four-step regimen he kept at home. He worked slower, filling his bucket with cold water as he tried to avoid looking between Yuuri’s legs as he sat on the stool next to him. They were friends. Just friends.

Viktor dumped the bucket of water over his head, biting his cheek as he followed Yuuri outside into a steaming pool.

Hiroko had been so, so right. The hot water helped him relax, and Viktor’s heart soothed at the soft ripple of Yuuri’s hands flapping in the water.

It was a little easier to focus with Yuuri’s body under the water, the mineral scented steam warming him even with his head above the water.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had the same name as your dog?” Viktor broke the comfortable silence between them, Yuuri’s eyes had fallen closed as he had relaxed.

“He was named after you.” Yuuri’s eyes opened, but he decidedly stared down into the water.

“Huh? But-- you had him since you were sixteen?” Viktor’s voice rose embarrassingly high. 

“I got him on my birthday the year you were announced the next Surgeon General.” Yuuri’s cheek were flushed pink, and Viktor noticed belatedly that the tips of his ears turned pink as well. It suddenly became marked as adorable in his books.

“I know I was in the news, but I didn’t know it was enough to get a dog named after me,” Viktor laughed, cutting himself off when Yuuri only looked embarrassed.

“I wanted to be like you. I applied for the college you attended.” Yuuri still didn’t lift his eyes.

“Did you get in?” Viktor smiled brightly-- it made sense-- why Yuuri had never been bored by his ramblings about work and research like so many others had been.

“I got an interview, I think.” Yuuri blinked, and Viktor’s stomach dropped in cold, sharp dread as tears spilled over his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry. Was it bad? Even if you didn’t attend, that doesn’t mean--”

“It’s where they designated me as a Sleeper.”


	6. Rain

Viktor’s stomach twisted, poison pooling in his gut as the horror flowed through his veins. “It’s...They… God, I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s not your fault.” Yuuri tried to smile, but it didn't work, his eyes red and his hands twisting around each other.

Oh. But it was. Viktor was the reason Yuuri went to that interview. They hadn’t met yet, but Viktor had a hand in Yuuri’s fate. He was the reason why Yuuri had spent a decade as a Sleeper, even if in Viktor’s mind he was perfect.

“But.. why?” Viktor faltered, staring down into the steamy water they were sitting in.

“I was nervous. I probably did something. I don’t remember.”

Viktor knew that amnesia-inducing medication was the first step of processing a sleeper. He hadn’t thought too much about it. But now it seemed inhumane and cruel. Like Yuuri was serving time for a crime he didn’t commit.

“Yuuri… I…” Viktor gulped. He was still crying. Viktor didn’t know what to do. What was right, what was wrong.

He swept Yuuri into a hug, the water splashing around them. He hugged him tightly, the sick realization swimming through him dulling his senses for a moment. Until he realized-- realized that they were naked, pressed together too close. Too close, but Viktor didn’t want to move. He wanted to commit to memory the way Yuuri fit against him, the softness of his thighs, the blush that turned the tips of his ears pink.

Viktor liked it, and that was wrong. He jumped back, Yuuri doing the same, his cheeks on fire , tears replaced by shock.

“I’m sorry.” Viktor blurted again, taking a step back and sinking into the water. His body was acting on its own in too many ways, and his heart was racing too fast. “I really am.”

~

Yuuri didn’t draw back, but he kept his distance for the rest of the evening. They sat next to each other in the common room with the other curfew-sequestered guests, thumbing through Yuuri’s vintage ice skating magazines. Viktor let Yuuri talk endlessly, translating the Japanese issues and narrating any particular season’s scores from memory.

They went to bed at the same time, when Makkachin had already curled up, Vicchan snoozing between her front paws.

Viktor woke up on the third day of quarantine on top of Yuuri again, warm fingers curled on the small of his back. Viktor lay still, listening to Yuuri’s breathing and feeling the even beating of his heart.

He slowly extricated himself from Yuuri’s futon, hoping he wouldn’t wake Yuuri up and have to explain this. But when he finally pulled himself free, Yuuri stirred, twisting and turning until his feet pressed against Viktor’s calves and slipped between his legs, his arm slinging over Viktor’s side and his cheek pressing into his shoulder.

For a second, Viktor wondered if Yuuri had been the one to pull him into being a blanket. But then he remembered how cuddly he was with Makkachin-- and foolishly crushing on Yuuri wouldn’t end well for either of them.

Viktor lay with Yuuri cuddled against him, listing to the peaceful patter of the rain on the roof top. Makkachin and Vicchan padded back into the room, bellies full of chicken and rice and content to sleep-- curled up against Yuuri. Vicchan licked Yuuri’s ear, wagging his tail at the giggle he earned. He licked again, knowing his owner best, finally getting him to wake up. He twisted, petting Vicchan without even noticing his proximity to Viktor.

“Ohayou,” Yuuri mumbled, his voice thick and rough from sleep. He scratched Vicchan’s ears, laughing again when Makkachin stepped over his head to demand her own loving.

“Good morning,” Viktor replied anyway. It was a nice way to wake up, and even nicer view. Yuuri took longer to become human, sitting up and rubbing his eyes and only getting out of bed when Viktor had already dressed.

“Is that rain?” Yuuri perked up, padding toward his window and peering out. 

“Yes. Sounds pretty heavy.” Viktor strretched, catching himself admirning Yuuri’s butt.

That was, until Yuuri straightened and ran down the hall, out of his bedroom and into the garden the onsen was built around. He pushed aside the sliding door and jumped off the raised porch, jumping right into a puddle. Viktor followed him- puzzled, watching as Yuuri lifted his head, staring up into the heavens, squinting when a heavy raindrop plopped near his eyelashes.

Viktor stared, watching Yuuri close his eyes, his smile widening into a grin. Viktor watched, enthralled as Yuuri jumped from puddle to puddle with an ethereal grace, his hands flicking as he stimmed, his laughter bright and beautiful . Yuuri danced through the puddles like he was music itself, his hair sticking to his forehead and falling into his eyes, his night shirt growing transparent in the heavy rain.

“Yuuri?” Viktor shifted his weight from foot to foot, standing on the porch.

“It’s raining.” Yuuri said with the biggest smile, pausing in his dancing.

Viktor closed the distance, hopping down from the porch and slipping in the mud. Yuuri’s skin was slick and cold, but his lips still tasted faintly of toothpaste as Viktor kissed him, cupping his soft cheeks in his hands. Yuuri froze, and Viktor felt a cold drop soak his scalp and run down the back of his head. He opened his eyes, looking directly into Yuuri’s wide brown eyes, the gold flecks in them dimmed by the gray daylight. He blinked, the stunned expression replaced by his delectable smile.

“Can you feel it?” Yuuri held out his palms, catching a raindrop in his hands. 

Yes. Viktor certainly did. He felt everything, all consuming, all for Yuuri--

“I missed the rain. The sun-- they can simulate it. But not rain.” Yuuri babbled, and before Viktor could realize the disappointment, he was on his tip toes, Yuuri’s hands cupping Viktor’s own cheeks.

But he didn’t kiss Viktor back. Instead he rubbed his fingers against the three-day stubble on Viktor’s cheeks, the result of neglecting shaving and being too scared to ask anything more of his hosts. Yuuri stared intently, his fingers making small circles, ghosting up and down his face, tracing the shape of his jaw. Viktor’s knees went weak when Yuuri nuzzled him, rubbing his nose against the stubble, and shyly pressing a whisper of a kiss against Viktor’s lips.  
They kissed again.  
Yuuri’s teeth chattered, the movement from his stimming not enough to keep him warm, soaked to the skin and standing, bare feet in a puddle.

Makkachin barked from the porch, a short, single ‘boof’ as she stared out into the rain. Vicchan danced at her feet. Viktor helped Yuuri back inside, feeling like he was floating as they showered in the bathroom and Viktor changed back into his borrowed green kannaigi.

Yuuri didn’t keep his hands to himself for the rest of the day, and Viktor loved it. It started with soft caresses of his jaw line, playing with the texture of his stubble. But when Viktor sank down on the couch while they watched a movie together, Yuuri cradled Viktor’s head in his lap and played with his hair. He kissed the whorl on the top of his head, and even held Viktor’s knuckles to his lips when Viktor lifted his hand to touch Yuuri back.

“It’s wierd.” Mari spoke up at dinner, the only time they were in the same room together-- Mari and Toshiya took time off to eat with their now-whole family, plus Viktor.

“What is?” Hiroko was always smiling. She had drawn a smiley face onto Viktor’s omurice-- Yuuri’s had the ketchup spread evenly over the egg. Like it was something Hiroko knew to do even after ten years without her son.

“Yuuri’s touch-averse. But…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to. 

Yuuri’s thumb stopped making small circles on the back of Viktor’s hand as he held it. Yuuri had kissed his jaw when they had been called into the kitchen. It was sudden, but Viktor felt more alive than he had in years, and there was no way he was going to ask for anything less.

“You know sensory needs change, Mari.” Hiroko hummed, standing up and refilling Viktor’s glass with cold tea. 

“Why does it matter? It’s Viktor. I like it.” Yuuri spoke up, stabbing his omelet viciously with a fork.

“It’s just strange.” Mari doubled downl. Yuuri’s hand slipped out of Viktor’s. “I thought you’d be more careful after your interview.”

Yuuri’s chair scraped on the floor as he stood up, his footsteps heavy as he left the dining room. Hiroko scolded her daughter quietly, the atmosphere suddenly much colder without Yuuri there.

Viktor left, finding Yuuri curled up and rocking as he sat on the living room tatami, Vicchan cradled in the space between his chest and knees. Blood trailed down his wrist as he sunk his teeth into the heel of his hand.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called, but he didn’t look up. Vicchan crawled up Yuuri’s chest, licking at his chin.

“Yuuri.” Viktor called again, sitting on the floor next to him. Yuuri jolted, as if he had been listening to music only to have his earbuds ripped out. He took his hand out of his mouth, his bottom lip red with macabre lipstick.

“Can I help?” Viktor asked, feeling helpless. Yuuri only rocked harder, his hands finding Vicchan’s fur. 

“Wrong?” Yuuri stopped rocking momentarily. Viktor blinked. “Is it wrong?”

“Hm?” Viktor took Yuuri’s bleeding hand in his, delicately. “What is?”

“Liking it. Touching you.” Yuuri’s eyes looked dark, his shoulders tense.

“No. Not at all. I like you, after all.”


	7. Return

“It’s hard. It’s been so long. I forgot how to be around other people.” Yuuri grimaced at his bloody hand. He hadn’t meant to bite hard enough to break the skin, but he had done so twice. He used to be so much better at handling himself. Better until...everything happened.

“I like how you are around me.” Viktor took a tissue from a box in the corner of the room and dabbed at the back of Yuuri’’s hand. “If I didn’t, I’d ask you to stop. Don’t mind Mari. He said, slowing when he felt Yuuri’s unwavering gaze on him. “Yes?” Viktor smiled, feeling a little self conscious.

Yuuri flushed pink. “Nothing. You’re just beautiful.” He said frankly, his hand resting on top of Viktor’s as he cradled Yuuri’s hand in his.

~  
They spent the rest of the evening on the back porch together, drinking tea and sharing bits of cookies with Vicchan. Yuuri avoided Mari, despite her guilty look and vague try to apologize. Hiroko didn’t push it, making sure her newly returned son had enough sweets. They watched a few old recordings of ice shows together, Yuuri’s smile returning until he dozed off leaning on Viktor’s shoulder.

Viktor shook Yuuri awake, holding his hand as they went back to Yuuri’s bedroom. Yuuri was quiet as they changed into pajamas, backs to each other.

“Viktor?” Yuuri asked, turning in his bed to look at Viktor in his own futon. He was cast in the blue of twilight, his glasses folded and resting on the floor beside him.

“Mmm?” Viktor turned, finding himself smile as Yuuri looked over at him.

“Can you…. Can you sleep with me? I mean… I woke up, and you were really close.. And it’s...really nice…” Yuuri pulled his blanket up to his nose, shrinking back at the surprised expression on Viktor’s face.

“I’m sorry, I’m used to sleeping with Makkachin-- I… if its okay..” Viktor stuttered.. Yuuri nodded, sitting up and pushing his futon closer to Viktor’s, settling back onto it and lifting the blanket up invitingly.

Viktor crawled over, carefully laying next to Yuuri, then slowly moving to lay half on top of him, resting his head on his chest. He could feel Yuuri’s heart flutter underneath his breastbone and the rise and fall of his breaths. 

“Okay?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri made the soft, throaty happy noise he had made when he had stimmedafter dancing in the rain together. Viktor smiled, feeling relief and preening a little. He knew Yuuri was happy, and it was so nice to have an obvious and honest cue to it.

~

The end of the lockdown was announced at seven the next morning. Viktor was still entangled with Yuuri in bed. He was the only one conscious enough to hear it, even after poking Yuuri awake. He stayed sleepy, blinking slowly.

“I can go home to Makkachin.” Viktor grinned, the happiness dulled by the instant realization that he no longer had a reason to stay with Yuuri. He had grown used to it, indulging in gentle touches and the comfort of company for nearly a week. Now he’d have to go back to work and his lonely life. He couldn’t be selfish and take Yuuri with him after all-- this was his family. His home. 

“Oh.” Yuuri yawned, finally sitting up after Viktor had already dressed. “You’re leaving?”

Viktor paused. “I have to. Without the lockdown in effect, I’m expected at work.” The words leave a sour taste in his mouth.

“Oh.”

Yuuri doesn’t get dressed and doesn’t brush his hair, following Viktor to the door of Yuutopia, and then to the pod station after slipping on a pair of rubber sandals. He looks adorable in his pajamas and rumpled hair.

“Katsuki Yuuri?” An old woman opening up her fruit stand yells from across the street. “Is that you, boy?” Yuuri waves, but doesn’t move from the station as Viktor puts in his order for a private pod home. He doesn’t feel like sharing a shuttle with anyone else-- not when he feels his chest cracking open.

“Come and visit,” Yuuri blurts out. Viktor avoided saying goodbye to Hiroko and the rest of Yuuri’s family. It is rude, but it also gives the past week too much finality.  
“Of course.” Viktor smiles, but it fades away quickly. The empty pod pulls up, and they stand together awkwardly on the side of a quiet residential street.

“I’ll send you a chat message when I’m done in the office,” Viktors feet remain glued to the dirty sidewalk. Yuuri’s eyes brighten at the suggestion.   
The pod begins to beep incessantly, sensing Viktor’s proximity and his delay in entering the vehicle.

Yuuri jumped up onto his toes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before pushing him into the pod. Viktor stumbled into the vehicle, locking eyes with Yuuri as the door closed and locked between them. It’s confusing and exhilerating all at once. Viktor sits with his hands on his cheeks the entire ride to his office. He is planning on what video to watch with Yuuri after work when he scans into his office.  
“Glad to know you’re not dead.” Yakov grunts. “We’re going to the stacks.”

“Hm?” Viktor snaps out of his daydream, pulling on his uniform coat.

“General Baxter has been waiting for you. Found out he has liver cancer. I need an assistant for the surgery.”

“I’m not a surgeon-- I’m sure there are plenty, aren’t there?” Viktor offers his best placating smile.

“You’e here to learn, Vitya. This is another one of our duties. There’s a compatible donor in the stacks. I need someone with your security clearance to go with me to get the donor organ.” Yakov grunted.

Viktor’s finger freeze in the middle of buttoning his jacket. “You mean… we harvest organs from the Sleepers?”

“And the ocean has water. Yes, Vitya. You could at least pretend to pretend to read the breifing documents I send you.” The older man huffs. “Your vacation is over.”

“Did we get consent? Don’t we have to wake them up?” 

Yakov pushed his chair back, folding his hands over his stomach. “Sleepers are wards of the state. As such, they’re state property and don’t require permission. Their sedation lines are enough anesthetic, but we will use general anesthetic when we get to the OR.”

Yakov’s words sting. He can’t associate his sleeper-- Yuuri-- and the word Property.

“So...we just take what we want from sleepers?”

“It’s General Baxter, Vitya. Stop wasting my time.” Yakov rose to his feet.

Viktor follows Yakov blindly to the stacks-- they open the drawer to a young woman with blonde hair, recently cut to the standard length. Viktor drains the biogel while Yakov transfers her plug onto the mobile stretcher. The woman moves like a doll-- lifeless and flopping, not even with the gentle movements of REM sleep.

They change her into a gown, and Viktor immediately finds the pink scars across her stomach and on her back.

“What is her designation?” Viktor asks while he srubs up with Yakov.

“Post-Partum depression. She became suicidal. She’s a past donor for kidney and uterus transplant.” Yakov grunts with the emotional connection of reading out a grocery list.

Viktor’s chest constricted in panic. He hadn’t looked at Yuuri’s medical history. He hadn’t searched his body for scars either. What organs was he living without, and how much longer did he have without the support of the sleeper box? Dialysis and such was still available, and often part of the supportive systems in the sleeper stacks. But Viktor knew that transplant and cures were common now. Why be saddled down by a machine when you could get fixed with a brand new organ?

Viktor’s hands shook as he held a scalpel. Yakov took it from him, opening the surgery site with the practice of decades worth of work.

“You’re distracted.” Yakov muttered. 

Viktor focused, making sure to at least not hurt this woman with his own stupidity.

Messaging Yuuri was the last thing on his mind when Viktor walked out of the stacks. 

He had to see him.


	8. Tear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:!!! There is reference to noncon in his chapter and one instance the word rape. It does not happen, but there is a situation where a character removes another characters clothing suddenly with the intention to perform a medical examination. One character reacts negatively because of frustration and confusion due to communication. Communication breakdowns can often be a trigger for emotional breakdowns and self-injury behavior, which also occurs in this chapter. But there is NO intended non-con , no sexual content and there is a lot of guilt and regret because of the implications of the actions the character did.
> 
> Oh man, there is angst, but it will be happier next chapter I promise. It will all be okay.

Viktor left before his shift technically ended-- it didn’t matter. He had plenty of vacation, thanks to never taking it throughout his career and his copious amounts of overtime. Yakov didn’t asked questions--before it had made Viktor feel lonely, but now he was thankful for it. He bounced on his heels in the elevator, still in his lab coat and credentials. He’d need them, after all. Yuuri’s sleeper record was gone, and Viktor missed seeing an old scar… it could be fatal.

His hands shook as he entered an order for another private pod to Yuutopia Katsuki. They were more expensive, but Viktor couldn’t bear waiting the time it took for shuttles to crawl across the city. Viktor typed out a quick message to Yuuri, and checked every thirty seconds to see if he got a reply. But he arrived at the bath house before Yuuri replied. Viktor nearly stepped inside with his shoes still on, his heart racing, his anxiety rising to a crescendo.

“Yuuri?” Viktor called, kicked off his shoes and turning down the hallway that had grown familiar to him. It was a little desperate to come back so soon-- but once Viktor saw Yuuri he could explain.

“You didn’t read the sign. We’re closed.” Mari interrupted Viktor before he could call for Yuuri again. She stepped out of the dining hall, phone in hand.

She froze, her red eyes widening. “Yuuri isn’t with you?” 

Viktor sucked in a deep breath, the anxiety taking physical form, a vice-like grip stealing air from his lungs. “What? He’s not here?”

“He packed up and left. He didn’t say anything. He left a note to say to not look for him.” Mari’s voice was hollow, her shoulders heavy with guilt.

“No-- no. Please, don’t joke with me.” Viktor hiccuped, pushing his hands through his hair. “There’s a possibility he was an organ donor, and he might need dialysis-- or he might get sick being off the sleeper support system. I came to check on him.”

“What?” Mari’s voice was fragile. “Why did he donate? He didn’t die-- our parents would never--”

Viktor didn’t have an answer. He turned back to the front door. “I have to find him.”

~

Viktor bit into the chalky nutrition bar as he paced down another street. He had returned to the sleeper stacks to review any new intakes, but Yuuri wasn’t among them. He went to every major hospital and every clinic he could find until the sun set and his hands began to shake from low blood sugar. The low-grade anxiety of the day had stolen any kind of appetite, but he knew he couldn’t find Yuuri if he fainted.

He hadn’t realized it, but he had fallen onto the route he took Makkachin on during their walks. Viktor kept his eyes on his watch, searching for any other possible places that Yuuri’s parent’s hadn’t checked and wracking his brain for ideas. He had been on the ice of the simulation rink himself, with no Yuuri to be found.

Viktor stopped at the front door to his building, completely lost.

It was all his fault. Yuuri would die, and Viktor would be his murderer. All because of some stupid whim and curiosity.

Viktor had lots of practice pretending. So he pretended to have it together long enough to make it to his front door. His vision blurred as the elevator lifted him and gravity tugged at his aching stomach. He was a monster-- not only to Yuuri, but to Makkachin. He couldn’t even hold it together for her.

Viktor stepped out onto his floor, turning the corner automatically before he froze.

It was like seeing a ghost.

Yuuri sat on his welcome mat, his back against Viktor’s door, his head hanging as he dozed curled around a messily packed knapsack and glasses askew on his face.

“Yuuri?” Viktor whispered, not wanting the spectre to dissipate with too strong of a word. Makkachin whined and scratched from the other side of the door. He touched Yuuri’s shoulder, finding solid flesh and bone. A sob escaped his throat, and tears spilled over Viktor’s cheeks as he tried to unlock his door, trying three times before he finally managed to open it.

Makkachin barrelled out of the door, happy even when Viktor ignored her, grabbing Yuuri around his waist and pulling him into the living room.

Yuuri squeaked sleepily, slow to wake but not slow to confusion as Viktor turned on every light on the switch panel before pulling Yuuri’s coat off him. Yuuri’s eyes opened wide, but he moved like a doll when Viktor pulled his shirt over his head and knocked his glasses onto the floor.

“Wha?” Yuuri asked when his hands undid the fly of his jeans and pushed them down his hips. Viktor babbled, narrating his day as he moved Yuuri like a doll, making him lean onto Viktor and tugging his socks and shoes off at the same time as his pants. Viktor put on blue nitrile gloves, running his hands around Yuuri’s scalp in the off chance they had taken something for a bone graft. Yuuri’s expression twisted, but he let Viktor open his mouth. Viktor felt sick, holding Yuuri’s jaw in his hands. He was missing the molars in the back of his mouth, and he could tell that some teeth on one side were ceramic implants, something considered archaic technology by current dental standards. He stepped back, scanning Yuuri’s naked torso for any obvious scars before he circled Yuuri, scanning the line of his spine. No words came from Yuuri except for a soft frustrated noise when Viktor scanned him again. Viktor tasted blood in his mouth as he bit down on his lip. It was well hidden in the v-shaped line of his abdominal muscles and obliques, but it was there-- a long twenty-centimeter scar. Viktor stepped forward, but Yuuri scrambled backward until he ran into the door, smacking his head into the wood and grimacing.  
Wide brown eyes stared up at Viktor, and all at once it came crashing down on him.

“Oh, god. Yuuri. I’m so sorry-- I… oh god, I didn’t-- I’m not… I’m so sorry. I’m not going to do anything to you. I swear,” Viktor felt fresh tears spring to his eyes, his heart sick when Yuuri, rather than curling and hiding his naked body lifted his head and smacked against the door-- once, twice, three times, four--he smacked himself in the face with his hands before it became a painful erratic pattern.

Somehow, stupid Viktor had made it worse-- grabbing Yuuri and stripping him, no consent given and any explanation flowing past his ears without any comprehension. He had not done it with any evil thought in mind-- but he still was a monster.

“Yuuri, I---” Viktor reached out, but for the first time that evening, Yuuri resisted, his muscles tensing and the banging of his head against the door louder and harder. “Yuuri--” Viktor immediately stepped back, holding up his hands. “I’d never, god-- I was so worried-- I needed to see if you were missing any organs-- if you were sick. I spent all day looking for you!”

The words only seemed to agitate Yuuri more, even as he crumpled to the floor, his skin red as he beat his hands over his face.

Makkachin stepped over, sniffing Yuuri’s shoulder, her tail wagging slowly. She didn’t wine, bark or jump up on Yuuri. She waited. The hitting slowed when Viktor stopped talking, stopped trying to explain himself, stopped trying to make Yuuri feel safer. 

Viktor sat on the floor across from Yuuri, slowly moving to take the tablet Viktor had gifted to Yuuri the first day they had spent together from its spot spilled out from the bag Yuuri had packed.

Viktor unlocked it, typing in the keyword. It took twice as long, but he slid over the tablet to Yuuri-- the screen displaying a simple clipart of a person with a angry red line and a doctor holding a box with a bean-shaped nondescript organ in it.  
Yuuri peeked at it between his fingers, before he slowly moved to pick up the tablet. His free hand ghosted over the scar on his lower abdomen, and his eyes flickered up to Viktor’s.

“Sick?” Viktor pressed his mouth tightly shut to keep the emotion from erupting from him. Yuuri uncurled a little bit more, and Makkachin crept closer, her dark brown eyes watching sagely.

“No?” Yuuri’s words came back to him, his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Yuuri...they take organs from the sleepers. If you’re missing your liver or kidneys, you could be dying.” Viktor’s voice shook, but he tried his best. “I was looking for signs of surgery… I’d never… I’d never take anything from you without your permission.”

“You took my clothes without permission.” Yuuri blinked, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“I swear, Yuuri, I didn’t want anything but to make sure you were okay.”

“I know. I trust you.” Yuuri said softly as Makkachin licked his cheek.  
“I don’t deserve your kindness, Yuuri,” Viktor managed.

“Why? You were being a doctor.” Yuuri retorted. He gestured at Viktor’s gloves and white coat. “But… why? You were talking too fast.”

Viktor gathered Yuuri’s clothing, righting it and folding it into a pile. They had gone to the baths together naked, but it was somehow different to talk to someone when half of the party was still fully clothed.

“I was telling you why-- I should have waited, I woke you up and I couldn’t wait. I’ve been dreading it all day, and then your parents said you left. I was so scared you left to spare them from seeing you suffer.”

“I left because I couldn’t do it any more. I’m always going to be a helpless sleeper to them. It’s been ten years, but they act like we just started back where we left off.” Yuuri frowned, taking the pile of clothing from Viktor. “I want to be Yuuri Katsuki, a twenty-eight year old adult.”

He took a shaky breath, cheeks coloring pink as he pulled on his boxers. “I didn’t have a plan… I just came here. I knew you were at work, but I didn’t think I’d have to wait long… and I guess I fell asleep.”

“You.. came here?” Viktor sat on the floor even as Yuuri stood up, stepping back into his jeans. 

“I wanted to see you.” Yuuri turned his back, buttoning his jeans. One of the cuffs had unrolled, leaving one ankle bare and the other lopsidedly covered. 

“Mari said that your letter said not to look for you.” Viktor felt like a fish, gaping at Yuuri.

“I thought I’d stay with Phichit… but…” Yuuri’s expression darkened.

“Stay with me.”

~  
Even though Viktor could not stop obsessing over his awful misconstrued miscommunication with Yuuri, Yuuri seemed unbothered by it. Enough that they shared the same bed, Yuuri dressed in his Sleeper gown after realizing he hadn’t packed any pajamas. Yuuri slept soundly partly on top of Viktor, Makkachin providing the comforting pressure Yuuri craved. She was happy about their new roommate and the surprise new normal he brought to the apartment. They had settled for bed after Viktor had checked his temperature and went down a list of potential harmful symptoms before deciding that MRIs and Xrays could wait until the next morning. Viktor watched the sun rise and throw orange light across his ceiling as Yuuri and Makkachin both snored. Eventually Viktor grew restless enough that he had to move. He slowly extricated himself from the sheets, arms and paws keeping him in bed before he moved to start cooking breakfast. Yuuri slept through the smell of blini and coffee filling the apartment and past Makkachin crawling over him in order to beg for her share.

Viktor had finished setting the kitchen table with the only two plates he owned when Yuuri woke up. Viktor nearly jumped out of his skin, feeling filthy when pleasure curled in his gut at the sight of Yuuri’s slender legs under the hem of the Sleeper gown.

“Yuuri,” Viktor yelped, and he only got a sleepy wave in return.

“Yuuri, I--” Viktor twisted the paper towel he had folded into a napkin in his hands. “I-- I swear I would never rape you. I will never do anything like last night again. I’m sorry.”

Yuuri blinked slowly, and Viktor feared a repeat of their communication of the night before. But this time Yuuri stepped forward, his touch light on Viktor’s arm and lips soft on his mouth.

“I know.” Yuuri’s breath was warm on Viktor’s cheek. “Too early for so many words.” Yuuri grumbled, his fingertips dancing from Viktor’s arm to the stubble on his jaw that probably counted as a beard by now. 

“It’s ten--”

“Shhh.” Yuuri smiled , his eyes fluttering shut as he moved from playing with his facial hair to pressing a finger to his lips. “Early.”


	9. Champange problems

v***“I made breakfast,” Viktor said, his cheeks too warm and his body too light feeling. It was the antithesis of what he had felt the day before. He really didn’t mind though. He motioned toward the dining table he had bought solely for the housewarming party his parents had forced him to do when he first moved in years ago. He was thankful now-- eating over his laptop on the couch was embarrassing.

“What… is it?” Yuuri peered at the carefully arranged plate. Viktor pulled out a chair for Yuuri and motioned toward the french press. 

“Blini… ah, pancakes?Please help yourself. Oh,I have sugar and cream!” Viktor scrambled back to the kitchen. Makkachin ran after him, excited by the sudden movement. He arranged the carton of cream and a bag of sugar cubes on the table. He froze, realizing all at once how depressing it looked. The plates were mismatched and old, scratched from years of repeated use. The nicest thing he owned was the french press,and he only had peach jam for the blini because of Lilia.

Viktor felt even more nervous when they sat and ate. Yuuri had stopped and made his coffee, the mug half full of cream and sweetened with three sugar cubes. Viktor liked his with just a dash of cream and one sugar cube, but he felt oddly fond about knowing exactly how Yuuri took his coffee. But then Yuuri didn’t eat-- not really. He picked at the blini with his fork, tearing the pancakes into tiny pieces. Viktor had considered blini the safest breakfast possible-- who didn’t like pancakes? Carbs were safe, vegetarian or not, and yet Yuuri wasn’t eating.

“I didn’t have any eggs or salad,” Viktor cleared his throat.

“Yeah,” Yuuri continued methodically pulling the blini apart with his fork.

“I’m sorry,” Viktor continued. His own meal was nearly done, and yet Yuuri hadn’t eaten at all. Even Makkachin had wolfed down her blini off the floor.

“Why?” Yuuri finally looked up and the fork on his plate stilled.

“You’re not eating?” Viktor frowned. Yuuri shrank a little, and the guilt was back on Viktor’s shoulders.

“I am,” Yuuri’s voice went soft. Come to think of it, during their week together Viktor hadn’t seen Yuuri eat anything bread or cake-like. It was mainly rice, salad, or meat. Any snacks they had had been crunchy. Viktor had been offered toast over his stay, but Yuuri never had.

“Oh. Okay.” Viktor forced a smile, looking down at his plate. He forced himself to slow down, taking slow sips of coffee between bites. It was only after he had completely shredded each blini into crumbs that Yuuri put the fork to his mouth.   
Viktor sagged in relief and in embarrassment, sitting with his own empty plate and watching Yuuri eat. He ended up eating everything-- jam and all, even though Viktor had to fix a second cup of coffee. They talked between bites, mainly cooing at Makkachin. Yuuri rattled off his extensive list of poodle facts-- including every company that sold dog clothing in the settlement. At the end of the meal, Yuuri gathered the plates with Viktor and brought them to the sink. Their hips bumped in the cramped kitchen, and Viktor caught himself smiling when Yuuri flicked his hands-- his telltale happy stim.

“I’m going to take another day off,” Viktor blurted, elbow-deep in suds as they washed the dishes together.

Yuuri stopped drying the mug in his hand. “Why?”

“Because I’m much happier here with you.” Viktor smiled. But Yuuri bowed his head.

“I don’t want to be a burden. I’ll be here when your shift is over. I just… I need your help with something.”

Viktor tilted his head, trying not to feel a little hurt at Yuuri’s lack of enthusiasm. “Anything.”

“I don’t know how the travel pods work.”

“I can order one for you.” Viktor pulled the plug from the sink.

“No. I need to learn.”

“Yuuri, you aren’t a burden. You’re my friend.” Viktor sighed. “You don’t need to rush to leave. Besides… we need to make sure you’re okay.” Viktor reached out, his fingers brushing the fabric of Yuuri’s sleeper gown above where his scar would be.

“Then why are you taking a day off only to go to work?”

“I’m not. I have...connections.”

~

Christophe was ready for them when their pod pulled up to the front of the Giocometti clinic. It was technically only for implants and beautification procedures, but it they had an x-ray and ultrasound machine. And that was all that mattered.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” Christophe’s full lips curled into a smile. “Looks like you’re beautiful enough already.” He cooed at Yuuri, who stayed two steps behind Viktor in the storefront.

“I’m not here to get any of your services,” Yuuri answered bluntly. 

Christophe fluttered his eyelashes and pressed his hand to his heart. “I didn’t know sassy was Viktor’s type.”

“Viktor?” Yuuri sounded confused, but was soon lost by the chrome statement art pieces stationed throughout the front of the clinic. He moved, staring at his warped and amorphous reflection in the blobby sculptures. 

“I thought you outgrew himbos,” Chris leaned over to his life-long friend. Viktor stiffened. 

“It’s not like that. And he’s not a himbo.” Viktor hissed. Yuuri looked out of place in his faded jeans rolled up to his calves and a faded tshirt among all the silver and white. But that was wonderful-- Yuuri didn’t fit into the prison society had been pushed into.

“He’s...was… a sleeper. I need to make sure that he won’t go into organ failure off of the support machinery.”

Chris did wonderfully, covering his emotions well. He only gasped and set his mouth into a frown. “You don’t do anything easily, do you?” Chris snapped.

“I love you?” Viktor forced a lopsided smile. “Please?”

Viktor led Yuuri to the back of the clinic, keeping a hand on his waist and guiding him when he became even more distracted by a video display about eye implants. 

“Rose or brut, darling?” Christophe pulled out a canister of contrast solution, tipping the metal bottles to check the label.

“What?” 

“Our contrast solution comes in rose or brut. It goes with the image, you know?” Christophe’s smile remained the same. Yuuri wrinkled his nose.

“No one is allowed to drink alcohol since the Statues went into effect.” Yuuri watched Christophe pour the contrast into a wine glass.

“As I said, it’s not champagne-- its merely a flavor. Nothing will happen besides your organs lighting up.” Christophe held a glass of what looked like rose to Yuuri.

“I don’t want to light up.” Yuuri took a step back, nearly tripping over Viktor’s feet.

“He needs you to drink it so we can make sure you’re healthy.” Viktor reached out to steady the man. “Please?”

It worked-- Yuuri downed the glass in a few gulps, his nose wrinkling at the fizzy bubbles. He climbed onto the chrome and white leather examination table. Chris swung a mounted camera-like machine down from the ceiling. “You are worried about his kidneys?” He said as if he were talking about the weather. Yuuri’s eyes followed him as he moved around the room and aimed different machines at him. He squirmed uncomfortably when they squirted cold gel onto the long pink scar and pressed a wand against it. Viktor watched a holo screen, his hand resting on his jaw.

“How it is looking?” Chris stowed away the last machine and handed Yuuri an egyptian cotton cloth to clean the gel off with.

Viktor scrolled through the images again, scanning each centimeter of the scans. 

“Is it bad?” Chris came to the screen. He was more about adding to rather than taking away.

“Wow. Lots of scar tissue… that’s a viable amount of liver tissue though…” Chris hummed. “He has a kidney.” Chris pointed it out on the image. “Not ideal, but as long as he doesn’t injure it, he shouldn’t need intervention..”

“He shouldn’t have needed intervention, Chris.” Viktor said under his breath. Chris stopped-- he knew that tone. His friend was angry.

“Yuuri is just as human. He isn’t a garden to pick from.”


End file.
